


Star Wars Drabbles

by Ace_Of_Spades19



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Boba Fett is sexy, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Force-Sensitive Reader, Fuck the Jedi Order, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, How Do I Tag, Jedi Reader, Light Angst, Multi, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pen Pals, Rating May Change, Sith reader, Soft Boba Fett, Tension, Trans Character, but so is reader so its fine, i want grievous cape, literally one word away from being dunked, need more soft grievous, no beta we die like my uterus, no pronouns used, reader has no idea how to flirt, supportive boyfriend, supportive boyfriend grievous, the droids are sweating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:20:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29603061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ace_Of_Spades19/pseuds/Ace_Of_Spades19
Summary: A collection of oneshots and stories that I will add to over time. All will be focused on various Star Wars characters.
Relationships: Boba Fett/Reader, CT-7567 | Rex/Reader, Grievous | Qymaen jai Sheelal/Reader, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader
Comments: 22
Kudos: 68





	1. Summary

Asdlgksdf I still don't know how to work Ao3 so please ignore this first chapter...


	2. Panic Attack (Grievous/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: S/O has a panic attack.  
> This is literally just Grievous being absolutely w h i p p e d for reader, sorry not sorry lmao

Waking up was always a slow process with you. Mornings, or at least, as close a morning as you can get in space, were never your favorite, and you tended to be rather grumpy when you did finally rise to face the day. The only thing that managed to brighten your mood was waking up in the arms of your lover, which...didn’t happen this morning. Your eyes cracked open, a sleepy grumble leaving your lips as you flailed one arm, trying to find the mass of heat that usually rested beside you, only to find an empty space. Confusion made your eyes snap open fully, and you propped yourself up on one elbow, looking around the room. 

“Qymaen?” You uttered softly, only to be met with silence, and you realized that the only sign that Grievous had been here at all was his cape, draped partially over your body. Your fingers ran over the soft fabric, pulling it to you as you slowly got up out of bed. The floor of the bedroom was freezing cold against your bare feet, and you shivered, wrapping the familiar article of clothing around your body, a significant amount of it dragging behind you on account of its sheer size. Stifling a yawn, you stumbled clumsily to the console on one side of the room, and upon brief inspection found yourself frowning; he hadn’t even left you a message explaining where he was. Knowing him, he was probably still on the bridge… 

Not bothering to get dressed, rather comfortable with Grievous’ cape draped over your own shoulders, you left the room. Meandering through the halls, you took your time getting to the bridge of the Separatist ship, encountering a few patrols of droids along the way, though if any wished to speak on your current state of dress, none did. They all knew what happened to those who spoke to you in such a way. By the time you reached the bridge, you were significantly more awake, and your feet were rather numb to the cold.

The doors opened, and twenty or so droid heads turned to face you, and almost just as quickly turned back to their posts. All except one that is. Eyes like pools of molten gold stared at you from the center of the room, receptor panels angled forward in a way that you knew meant he was pleased to see you. And for a moment, you allowed yourself to bask in that spotlight of a gaze, just being near him enough to help quell your distress of waking up alone. Well...almost. 

“My dearest, so glad you could join me.” Under normal circumstances, such a greeting would cause you to melt, to cheerfully run to him and reciprocate with equal affection. Instead, you lifted a finger, pointing accusingly at the General. “Where were you this morning?” The speed at which his receptors angled backwards was nearly comical, and the cyborg fiddled with his own servos, shifting from foot to foot. “I had every intention of joining you last night my love.” You shuffled forward another few steps, and you could only imagine just how humorous this situation would appear to an outsider; you, dwarfed and struggling to compensate under the sheer amount of cape you were huddled in, chewing out the General of the largest droid army in all of his seven foot tall glory… “Don’t ‘my love’ me, mister.” You huffed, folding your arms like a brat.

“You didn’t even leave me a message.” Grievous averted his gaze as you stressed the importance of the issue, however he was quick to snap his attention back to you upon realizing your lower lip was quivering. Perhaps you were laying it on a bit thick, but you truly had missed him, and this whole issue did wonders in bringing your insecurities to the surface. Insecurities that you knew were most likely foolish, but you couldn’t help but think them regardless. What if he didn’t feel the same way about you? What if he simply kept you around because you were good at repairing droids?

“Little one…” Your eyes darted upward, so absorbed in your thoughts that you hadn’t realized he had crossed the distance between the two of you until he towered above you. His golden eyes traveled over narrow shoulders, a claw gently readjusting his cape around your figure. Grievous exhaled, the sound devolving into a coughing fit that took a few moments to die down, and when it did, he turned his full attention to you. “A Republic battle cruiser exited hyperspace not too long after you fell asleep. I...didn’t want to alarm you.” 

Oh. 

You honestly didn’t know what you expected to hear, but it certainly wasn’t that, and you felt conflicted. On one hand, you felt mortified that you had been so concerned over something like waking up next to each other when he had been fighting the enemy. But on the other, you found yourself even more pissed at him, standing a bit taller as if in an effort to reach his eye-level, though not even close to reaching such heights. “So you mean to tell me we could have been blown up and I wouldn’t have even known? I wouldn’t have even gotten to say goodbye to you, or, or…” 

You could feel your breath quicken, the mere thought of such a thing happening triggering a panic deep within you. As if he could sense it, Grievous bent down on one knee, talons carefully gripping your chin. “Breathe my love, it’s alright-” “It’s not alright!” You shook your head as best you could in his grip, hands coming up to latch onto his shoulders. “You have to tell me next time, you have to wake me, I-...If you died and I wasn’t there…” A tear streaked down your cheek, caught by the warm metal of his digits, and he pressed his faceplates against your forehead. 

“I promise, from now on I’ll tell you.” Grievous rumbled, kneeling there as if it was just you and him, as if you weren’t standing in the middle of the bridge surrounded by droids doing their best not to pay attention to what was happening. He grasped one of your hands, resting it against his chest plating, and even through the layer of metal you could feel his heart beating, strong and steady. Closing your eyes, you focused on that rhythm, breathing in synchronization just like you’d practiced. Grievous was here, and he was fine. He wasn’t hurt, and he isn’t leaving. You’re both fine. You repeated this in your head, over and over until at last your heart stopped pounding like a drum. 

When you opened your eyes, you found him staring at you, and while he had no facial features to express it, you knew he was smiling. You could see it in the way his eyes narrowed, in the way his receptor panels were tilted back in what he would call a ‘less intimidating position’. Now calm, you felt embarrassment sinking in, heat rising to your cheeks, the tips of your ears burning. “I’m sorry I caused such a fuss.” You mumbled, hands pulling Grievous’ cape tighter around you, and he responded with a chuckle of amusement, a curled digit nudging against the underside of your chin. “No need to apologize little one.” Despite his assurances, his laughter only served to increase your mortification, and you huffed, scuffing your bare foot against the floor. 

“Now, how about I make up for my absence this morning?” Before you could even open your mouth to respond, he swept you up into his arms, bundled comfortably within the fabric of his cape. With smooth strides, he approached the captain’s chair that he so often sat in, settling down with you in his lap, nestled up against his chassis. A small smile pulled at your lips as he nuzzled his face against your cheek, one of your hands cupping the side of his head. “Can I keep the cape?” You mumbled, closing your eyes as you felt his plating rumble with a purr, adept digits readjusting the fabric to cover your feet. 

“How about we share…?” 

You kissed his faceplates. 

“Sharing’s good.”


	3. Admiration (Grievous/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No prompt, just wanted to do a piece on...idk really lmao, witty banter between Grievous and reader?? Reader unabashedly admiring him for being...him?? Honestly this might just be a rambling nonsensical mess, so I'm sorry XD

One of your favorite things to do was watch Grievous while he worked. Perhaps that sounds a little creepy without the context of the situation, but within the comfort of your own mind, you didn’t care. There weren't many things that could beat the hours you spent lounging in the captain’s chair, watching the cyborg pace through the bridge, commanding his fleet with an iron fist. You adored the way his cape swayed with each step, draped elegantly over his broad, mechanical shoulders; the way he stood with authority, both servos clasped behind his back...kriff you loved every single thing about him. And even though you tried to deny it, you had a hunch he was well aware of your fixation. 

Back and forth he walked, talon tipped feet clinking against the floor ominously. The bridge was almost completely silent, broken only by the occasional beeping of the ship’s systems, or the coughing of the General. You sat cross-legged in the captain’s chair, the size of which practically dwarfed your figure, your chin resting in the palm of your hand as you gazed at your companion like a love-sick teenager. He practically glowed with confidence, having already prevented a Republic run on their blockade earlier that day.

Grievous turned ever so slightly to look at you, those piercing eyes taking in your posture and expression, and before you could even comprehend that he was staring at you, the cyborg allowed himself a quiet laugh that devolved into a sputtering wheeze. Your face burned with mortification at being caught in the act of admiring him, and you snapped your gaze downward, fully prepared for him to make some kind of teasing remark. “Make sure our shields are fully charged. I would not put it past the Republic to try and breach our blockade again.” The General’s guttural growl of an order caught you by surprise, and you peeked up at him, finding his attention was elsewhere as he stared out the window of the command ship.

Interesting. 

Was he trying to convince you that he hadn’t noticed? Or perhaps...he was silently encouraging you to continue…? 

If the latter was the case, you were more than happy to do so, recovering from your embarrassment as you watched his receptor panels angle ever so slightly in response to various noises; the droids working diligently at their stations, the steady hum of the ship’s engines cycling, the sounds of peace briefly overtaking a normally hectic environment. Seeing Grievous like this, framed against the backdrop of a galaxy of stars simply reaffirmed in your mind just how beautiful he really was. “Do you have something to say, apprentice?” The question was direct enough to jar you from your stupor, and when you locked gazes with him, you could tell he was struggling not to laugh at you. You could see it in the way the skin crinkled around his narrowed eyes. A suppressed huff left your lips as you thought about the best way of answering.

Privacy was something valued by both of you, and it was for this reason the true nature of your involvement with one another was kept under wraps. For the two of you, it was just one more thing you could prevent others from using against you in this war. It was this secrecy that often led to these types of situations; public interactions that could be passed off as witty remarks between two passive aggressive rivals, but in actuality meant so much more. It was an intricate dance between Grievous and you, one that you had come to enjoy, oddly enough.

A few moments more consideration passed before you finally responded, holding his simmering gaze evenly. “No General, I was merely reflecting on our recent victory.” His head tilted, and he took a step towards you. “Oh? Any useful insights?” You raised a brow, folding your arms as you sat back against the chair. “Yes actually. Your aggressive strategies and plan of attack is admirable; I appreciate a man who can leave their opponent breathless and exhausted…” Trailing off, you heard his chassis rattle with a wheeze, and you grinned before continuing your statement. “...But such forward strategies left our flank open to boarding parties that I had to contend with. So, I’d say there’s room for improvement.”

You adored the way he puffed up in response to such criticism. Grievous, as prideful as ever, advanced on the captain’s chair, stalking in circles around you like an apex predator. The precise clicking of metal against metal resounded next to your ear as his sharp digits curled around the back of the seat, a sound that made your heart skip. “I feel as though, while your assessment is in many ways accurate, it is also rather unfair.” The General leaned down, figure towering intimidatingly above you, and you could feel the eyes on the two of you as the ‘conflict’ escalated. 

Ignoring the droids, you looked up into that mask, fixated on the pools of honey and gold that stared back down at you. The corner of your mouth twitched upward. “Care to elaborate, sir?” Stressing the title, you watched as the light in his eyes dimmed to something much more heated, a light that made you wish you were within the privacy of your quarters instead of on the bridge. “With pleasure.” When he released his hold on the chair, you noted the small dents where his grip had warped the metal.

“You focus too much on the details, and not enough on the conflict as a whole.” He paced back and forth in front of you, as if he were lecturing some inept Padawan, and not his Sith counterpart. “By pursuing the attackers and destroying them, I ensured the boarding party would not receive backup or support, cutting them off.” Grievous clenched a servo tight in emphasis, and once again you found yourself admiring his passion and destructive charisma. His gaze slid over to you, and for a moment you found yourself wondering if he was purposefully preening, and was simply basking in the light of your attention. The cyborg paused for a moment, coughing into the crook of his arm before continuing. “In turn, by the time you so easily dispatched the enemy intruders, the battle was already over.”

“Is there a point to this or are you just patting yourself on the back?” Your words were scathing, dulled only by the playful expression that accompanied your question. Grievous chuckled darkly, making his way back to you, his shadow casting over your smaller frame. He surprised you, reaching out to clasp your jaw in a firm grip, raising you up just a bit towards his faceplate. “My point is I think we work well together. Wouldn’t you agree little Sith?”

You may have rolled your eyes at that, but there was no misinterpreting the soft smile on your features, a smile only for him. 

“Yeah, we work well together, General.”


	4. War and Peace (Obi-wan/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Had an idea about Reader and Obi-wan bonding over the fact that Reader has a physical book collection, but that kinda evolved into...whatever this monstrosity is lmao.

Being a Jedi Knight meant giving your all to the Republic. It meant serving the needs of the people, even at the expense of yourself, especially now with the Separatist force growing in the galaxy. The war was all consuming, and even for those who were as grounded as the Jedi, it was exhausting. Breaks were rare, shore leave even rarer, so when it came time for you to return to Coruscant it felt more a dream than reality. For the first time since the war began, you found yourself waking up in your own bed, and not some dismal bunk on a ship.

Sunlight streamed through your window, the warmth on your face so alien that for a moment you thought you were imagining it. However, the discomfort of being blinded even with your eyes closed outweighed your disbelief, the sheets sliding to one side of the bed as you rolled over. Slowly, you peered out at the room around you, almost not recognizing the minimal furniture; shelves slotted into the wall, a short table next to the bed, and a seat in the corner looking out to the window that dominated a whole side of the room. A soft, lazy smile curved your lips. This was home.

A short while later you were up, sitting with your legs dangling off the bed, dressed in the standard attire of a Jedi Knight. Initially, you thought to reach for a ration pack stored in your bedside table, but you paused, looking back at the city sprawled out beyond your window. Having a proper breakfast for once wouldn’t hurt, and your stomach growled at the thought. Getting up, you left the room, eager to find something to eat that didn’t taste like it had already been digested once before.

Making your way through the Jedi living quarters, you paused once in a while to greet the fellow masters who were preparing to face the day, your mind wandering as you did. The living quarters were nice, with each Jedi assigned a room and a few pieces of furniture. It was by no means uniform however, with each Jedi orienting their room to best fit their needs, and, despite popular belief, each master added their own personal touches. You had seen rooms abundant with potted plants, rooms with full walls dedicated to memorabilia, even rooms with various weapons hanging in proud prominence. Though you couldn’t rightly blame everyone for assuming that Jedi were some sort of hive mind who only valued their ‘religion’. In war, it was easy to forget that a soldier was still an individual.

You were shaken from your thoughts only when your body collided with someone else. You rushed to apologize, before recognizing that well trimmed facial hair, stormy blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “General Kenobi! Forgive me, I was lost in thought.” You flushed with embarrassment, eliciting a lighthearted laugh from the Jedi. “It’s no trouble at all. I’m sure we’ve all done the same at some point.” Just hearing that laugh made you feel at ease, and you decided there was no one you would have liked to run into more than Obi-wan. 

Suddenly, an idea struck you, and you tilted your head up at him, analyzing him contemplatively before speaking. “General, you wouldn’t know any good places to get breakfast, would you?” He raised a brow, the question clearly peaking his own interest. “As a matter of fact, I might. But please, it’s alright to dispense with the formalities. After all, we are on shore leave.” Obi-wan pointed out, motioning you to follow as he began walking. With a few quick steps you were by his side, breathing a sigh through your nose. “Right, sorry Obi-wan. I guess I’m still trying to get used to this.” He waved off the apology, dismissing it as no big deal, and the two of you continued on your way, occasionally making idle small talk as you navigated the ever present crowds of Coruscant. It wasn’t maybe fifteen minutes later that he stopped before a rather beautiful little café in one of the upper sections of the city, the glass walls overlooking miles of scenery that stretched out before you.

Only once you arrived did you realize that instead of simply giving you the address, Obi-wan had walked with you the whole way there, a gesture that made you look over at him, the gears in your head turning. After a brief moment of hesitation, you turned towards him fully. “General- I mean, Obi-wan, would you like to join me for breakfast? Unless of course you’ve already eaten.” You quickly amended, half preparing for rejection. After all, he was a very prominent Jedi Knight, and he surely had much more important things to do than eat a meal with you. So caught up in your thought process you were, that you completely missed the way Obi-wan beamed down at you in response to the request. “That sounds splendid. In fact, I can think of no better way to start my morning than in good company.”

It took you a few seconds to actually process his answer, during which time he had flagged a waiter for one of the seats by the window. Shaking yourself from your surprised stupor, you bounded over to him, the two of you sitting across from each other. The waiter left you to scour the menu, and from where you sat you couldn’t help but notice the way the rising sun reflected off his auburn hair, the way he studied the menu with the same level of intensity he afforded military reports. You couldn’t help but wonder if that focus was because he too was struggling with this newfound peace.

“Something’s troubling you.” Obi-wan spoke matter-of-factly, only now glancing up at you, and you sighed, placing the menu you had been hiding behind down on the table. “Sometimes I forget how in tune you are to others’ emotions…” You grumbled half-heartedly, and he chuckled, knowing that even without the Force, your statement rang true. Waiting until after you ordered your food to elaborate on your clear discomfort, you looked out at the city, thinking of the best way to formulate your thoughts. Obi-wan sat patiently, giving the menus back to the waiter. “I’m struggling with this more than I previously admitted.” You began, turning back to meet his calm and collected gaze. “For months we’ve been aboard the Negotiator, fighting constant battles against the Separatists. We’ve gone from system to system, conflict to conflict with no respite and now…” A laugh left your lips, though it was one void of any real humor. 

“Now we’re sitting in a café eating breakfast and enjoying menial conversation.” He finished, aptly summarizing what you had struggled to convey. You nodded, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. “Exactly. We’ve been living so dangerously, with everything around us moving so fast, that I feel like I don’t know how to slow down anymore.” Obi-wan hummed, the conversation falling silent as the food was delivered. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable by any means, and in fact you felt more at peace sitting with Obi-wan than you ever had with anyone else. The food was divine, especially for two people who had been living off of military rations for the past couple of months. 

“I understand what you mean.” Obi-wan responded after he finished eating, dabbing at his mouth with his napkin. “I don’t think any of us expected to be fighting a war of this scale. Reintegration and finding a sense of normalcy will never be easy. I don’t know if it's even likely.” The Jedi paused, before reaching across the table, resting a hand gently atop your own. “But what I do know is that we have each other. And difficult or not, I’m not going anywhere.” His soft smile suddenly made you all too aware of the heat of his skin against your own, the brief contact of your legs under the table, and your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. As if realizing the same as you, Obi-wan retracted his hand as if you were hot coals, his own expression conflicted, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was for the same reasons you were.

\---

He walked you back to your room, each fleeting brush of his arm against yours, each time he rested his hand against your back to usher you ahead of him drawing your mind back to the café, back to that simple touch. It was such a small thing, and yet you couldn’t help but feel there was something more to it. The two of you made your way through the Jedi quarters, and this time it was you who could feel his troubled emotions, hanging over him like a thundercloud. You wondered if he was still thinking about it too, about the way your hand fit in his perfectly. 

You felt a sinking feeling as you stopped in front of your room, the door opening automatically. Turning to face him, you offered a smile, leaning against the doorframe. “Thank you Obi-wan. I enjoyed talking with you.” You couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but there was a palpable tension in the air as he inclined his head. “As did I.” For once, the silence was uncomfortable as he fidgeted. “Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” He blurted out, and suddenly it dawned on you; he didn’t want to leave. Despite his motives, he did bring up a good question. What were you going to do?

“Honestly I’m not sure. I-” “Are those real books?” You blinked, caught off guard. Obi-wan never interrupted anyone. But then, you saw the expression on his face, the way his eyes lit up in genuine excitement, and looking at him you realized that just as he didn’t want to leave, you didn’t want him to either. “They are. Do you...want to come in?” You offered sheepishly, and for a moment that conflict returned in his eyes. His answer was slow, as if he were fighting some sort of internal debate. “I’d like that very much.”

As soon as he walked past you, the door closed, sealing the both of you off from the outside world, at least temporarily. “How did you get these?” He asked, approaching the shelves lined from one end to the other with physical book copies from many different civilizations and cultures. You smiled, joining him, focusing on the books as a welcome reprieve from your own turmoil. “It wasn’t easy, but you would be surprised with what you can get in certain markets for the right prices. I know it’s a bit outdated, but I do love the way a book feels in my hands, and the smell of ink on pages.” Reaching out, you plucked one from the shelf, a personal favorite of yours. You ran a hand over the cover, fingers tracing the beautiful lettering of the title, before looking over at Obi-wan. 

“You can borrow some if you want.” Offering such a thing was the least you could do after everything Obi-wan had done for you, and he stared at you incredulously. “Really?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his bewilderment, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Of course.” His eyes flickered to your hand where it rested, and just like that, the air felt thick and heavy, nigh unbreathable. Neither of you moved, and it occurred to you that even if you did, it was unclear if that necessarily meant away.

The clearing of his throat nearly made you jump, and you took a step back, though not without noticing how his ears burned. A flush of heat crept up your neck and you stammered an apology. “S-Sorry. I'll let you pick something out. I’ll- I’ll just be over there.” You motioned to the chair by the window, all but running away from the Jedi. You threw yourself into the seat, draping your legs over the opposite arm and buried your face in the book in an effort to clear your mind. 

You weren’t so naive to not recognize what was happening between the two of you, and everything you’d learned as a Jedi screamed in opposition. Attachment led to the Dark Side. Love was dangerous. Romance was out of the question, and both of you knew it. But even as you reminded yourself of this, you couldn’t help but question, why? Why was it so bad to find someone who loved and supported you? To find someone that understood your struggles and helped you through them? Suppressing a groan, you focused even harder on the words you were reading. The point was to remind yourself of the Jedi way, not rationalize why that way was wrong. And yet here you were, thinking not of the values you were raised with, but of his hand in yours, of the way he smiled down at you.

“Do you mind if I…?” You snapped your head up to stare at Obi-wan as he pointed to the empty space beneath where your legs rested, a book tucked under his arm. Your internal thoughts screamed at you; you knew the correct answer. Tell him no. Tell him you need to be alone right now. “Not at all.” Was instead your breathless response, and you moved back against the other armrest, sliding your legs to the floor. He sat, before raising a brow. “Go ahead and move your legs back; no reason to be uncomfortable in your own room.” You could tell he was teasing you, having clearly gotten past his conflict better than you had. Or perhaps he was simply better at hiding it. Hands tightening on your book, you slowly raised your legs, laying them across his own, perpendicular to his body. He draped one arm over your legs, opening his own book.

You glared at the words before you, trying your best to turn your brain off and read. None of this mattered anyways, and the logical part of your brain knew it. You were both Jedi, sworn to the Jedi code, in the middle of a war that constantly threatened to tear you apart at any moment. That kind of thinking finally seemed to ground you, the turmoil quieting until the only sound in the room was the occasional turning of pages. This was nice, you eventually thought, even without it evolving into something more. Simply sitting in peace with one another, taking this rare chance to ignore the universe and preserve this small haven, perhaps you could settle for just that.

It was barely noticeable at first, passed off as an accidental touch as he rested his arm against your leg. Then it happened again. And again. And then you realized Obi-wan was drawing small circles against your thigh, eyes still focused on his book. You didn’t know if he was doing it subconsciously, or even if you should tell him to stop. The reality was, you didn’t want him to stop. It felt nice, it felt soothing, and again you found yourself questioning why this was wrong. Over the sound of your own heart, you realized neither of you had turned a page in a while. 

The next time you sought out his features, those steel blue eyes were burning into you, only this time you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. His fingers continued tracing up and down your thigh, aimless and yet searching at the same time. “Is this wrong?” You murmured, unable to stop yourself from asking, and he placed the book down without looking away. “I don’t know.” He admitted, and when he leaned in, it was impossibly slow, as if he were fighting with himself every inch of the way until his free hand rested against the arm of the chair behind your head. You were aware of each breath either of you took, his face mere inches away.

“And if it is, I can’t figure out why.” Book dropped and forgotten, you raised a tentative hand to his cheek, resting it there as if trying to determine if this was really happening, and not some figment of your imagination. “I don’t want to go through this alone. Any of it.” Your voice was a whisper, thumb briefly tracing over his lower lip. The brief touches to your thigh turned to a firm grip, and after what seemed like an eternity, his lips met yours. Obi-wan’s movements were soft and almost unsure, the both of you blundering through this experience for the first time. He drew away just enough to breathe, running his fingers through your hair.

“You won’t be alone. I promise. Through war and peace, I’ll be here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it sad that I have genuinely no idea if what I write is good in any way? Like when I read fanfiction, I feel a very certain way. I feel warm and fuzzy or all happy inside, or stuff like that. But I have zero clue if what I write evokes that kind of thing from readers. Yikes.


	5. Stolen Heart (Captain Rex/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yo I legit have no idea what's going on with this story. It's a mess. Um...both Reader and Rex being awkward messes??? I guess??? Also big brother Anakin who is 100% an enabler.

Anakin Skywalker was well known within the Jedi circle for doing things unconventionally, whether that meant in regards to the Jedi code, or simply how he approached each battle. It was this same breaking of the mold that inevitably drew you to him, to the point that you practically lived on the Resolute nowadays. You had never known your mother or your father, but you could confidently say that Anakin was like a big brother to you.

“Why is the button on your lightsaber so big?” You hopped up onto the console of the command center, crossing your legs as you lifted the weapon up to the light. It seemed only then that Anakin realized you had snatched it from his waist, letting out an indignant noise as he attempted to get it back. “Hey! C’mere you little klepto!” Hopping to your feet, you swayed unsteadily before dancing across the console and out of his reach, a snicker leaving your lips. “Is it because you have big clumsy hands?” You called out over your shoulder, catching sight of Obi-wan pinching the bridge of his nose in the corner as he no doubt lamented that he was saddled with not just one, but both of you. 

Anakin sighed with exasperation, though his eyes glimmered with mirth. “So is your button small because you have little baby hands?” He retorted playfully, and you gasped, bracing your fists on your hips. “How dare you! I’ll have you know that I-” He didn’t give you time to finish before making another dive for the lightsaber. You flailed in an effort to keep it away from him, compromising your balance, and before you knew it you had jumped down off of the console purely on instinct. Now level with the fellow Jedi, he smirked, eyeballing the weapon in your hand. Your gaze darted around the room, trying to think of what to do; there was no way Obi-wan would humor your little games, and the likelihood of avoiding a headlock from Anakin was almost null and void. Then, your eyes rested on a particular trooper. Without a second thought, you tossed the lightsaber over Anakin’s head. “Rex, catch!”

To his credit, the Captain did his best not to drop it, fumbling a bit before he got a firm grip on the object, and when he did, he found himself staring down at it as if processing just what it was he was holding. You watched that helmet look up at the two of you, then back down at the lightsaber, then back up. It was almost comical really, and you suppressed a snicker of amusement before waving your hand. “C’mon, toss it back.” All eyes were fixed on Rex, even Obi-wan watching as if to see if the straight laced trooper would participate in such frivolous activities. “I...uh…” He stammered, and for a brief moment it looked as though he aimed to throw it, before walking over to Anakin. “Here you go, sir.” “Thanks Rex. At least someone here knows how to respect their superiors.” Anakin teased, clipping the weapon back onto his belt.

You huffed, shoulders slouching in disappointment. “Killjoy.” The word left your lips in a near inaudible whisper, but you could have sworn Rex heard it, his posture going rigid. Well, more rigid than usual. However, despite your disappointment, you didn’t dislike Rex. In fact, it was quite the opposite. You admired him a great deal, for how calm he was under pressure, for his quick thinking and brilliant tactics, but even more so for the man he was beneath the layer of militance. In a war, you didn’t get many opportunities to see him as much more than a Captain, but there were a few rare moments, in times of peace before a storm where you could find him fiddling with small pieces of machinery, tinkering as if he weren’t Rex the Captain, but instead Rex the man who enjoyed simple things.

Perhaps that was why you had thrown him the lightsaber. To try and coax that man out of his shell and into the light. The fact that you were unsuccessful only made you want to try even harder… 

\---

The next couple days were interesting to say the least. 

You’d taken to following Rex around as much as possible, pestering and nagging, stealing his things and generally pushing as many of his buttons as you could. You supposed you had to applaud his tolerance, as he never once raised his voice, nor demanded you leave him be. His lack of response got you thinking; what did you want to come out of this? Sure, you were fishing for a reaction, but why? Why did it bother you so much that he maintained a professional air around you at all times? 

Perhaps it was because you liked him a lot more than you cared to admit.

Like Anakin, you always had a hard time with following the Jedi code without question. It was hard enough being a kleptomaniac, but rejecting so many things that seemed completely natural to you like attachment? It was a constant struggle. You tried, you really did, but when thoughts of the Captain’s broad shoulders or commanding aura dominated your mind, you found it extremely difficult to come up with reasons for why those thoughts weren’t right. Finally, after sleepless nights, you decided you had to speak to someone about it.

That was how you found yourself here, standing before Anakin’s door. Raising a fist, you hesitated, before knocking quietly as to not alert anyone in the surrounding area. A few tension filled seconds later, and the door opened, Anakin looking mildly surprised. “Can I talk to you?” You asked, shifting nervously from foot to foot, and he ushered you into his room. “Of course. What’s wrong?” Slumping onto his bed, you wondered how exactly to start, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. “Have you...Have you ever felt...love...for someone, despite the Jedi code telling us that such a thing is wrong?” You spoke the word as if it were the most unforgivable of taboos, waiting anxiously for Anakin to scold you for having such thoughts. “I have.” Your eyes snapped up to meet his, and he sighed, taking a seat next to you. 

“Is this about Rex?” Panic welled in your throat, and you stared over at him. Were you really that obvious? Did everyone know? “How did you…” The Jedi Knight laughed, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You know, I was once young and hormonal like you.” Your face contorted in disgust, and you pushed him lightly to express your discomfort. His mirth only increased in volume, holding up his hands in surrender. “It’s true! And before you freak out, no, it’s not obvious to everyone. I just...happen to know what to look for.” Anakin admitted cryptically, folding his hands in his lap. You sighed, before that noise devolved into a groan as you buried your face in your hands. “I don’t know what to do Ani. On top of the Jedi code, all I’ve done for the past few days is make his life a living hell, and now he probably hates me!” 

“Wow wow, slow down there. He doesn’t hate you.”

“Oh really? How do you know?” Your retort was quick, and Anakin offered you a soft smile. “Because I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you’re not paying attention.” Surprise flashed through you, and you weren’t sure what to make of such a claim. “I...honestly don’t know whether that makes me feel better or worse.” You allowed yourself a dry chuckle, hugging your knees to your chest. On one hand, it made your heartbeat quicken at the prospect that he could feel the same way as you did, but on the other hand, it only made the fact that you were going against the Jedi code even more prominent. Fawning over someone at a distance was one thing, but discovering the emotions were mutual was a whole other thing entirely.

A mechanical hand ruffled your hair. “It’s okay to not know.” He paused, as if contemplating whether or not to say more. “I’m not really a Jedi renowned for following the rules.” “Oh really? I’d never guessed.” Anakin nudged your shoulder with his own, rolling his eyes before continuing. “We are Jedi. But we’re also people. And we’re fighting a war where any day, any battle, could be our last. So, regardless of rules, if I had one solid piece of advice to give you, I guess it would be that it’s okay to find that one person that helps make life more bearable. And, that love doesn’t always lead to the Dark Side. Sometimes love can just be love. And that’s a beautiful thing.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s more than one piece of advice.” You teased, but you were very much aware of the point he was trying to make. His words were undoubtedly soothing, and helped to bring peace to your inner turmoil. “Thank you Ani. I really appreciate being able to talk to you about this.” You stood from his bed, making your way to his door. “Wait.” He called out to you, stopping you in your tracks. “One more thing.” Turning back towards him, you noted how his brow furrowed with worry. “Just remember, not every Jedi is as progressive as me.” You understood what he was saying; regardless of how you both felt about the subject, this wasn’t the Jedi way. Secrecy was key. Nodding, you slipped out into the hallways of the Resolute.

\---

The conversation you’d had with Anakin had left you with much to think about, and when the wakeup call rang out through the living quarters, you realized you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. Sitting up in bed, you rubbed your eyes, trying to gather the courage to put forth the plan of action you’d thought of during the night. Apologizing for your behavior. In hindsight it was easy to see how childishly you’d acted in hopes of garnering a reaction from Rex, partially because perhaps you hadn’t fully processed the emotions you associated with him yet. 

Finding the Captain was easy, the trooper standing in his usual spot on the bridge of the ship, his helmet tucked under his arm. As you approached, you did your best not to focus on the way his eyes pulled directly to you the moment you entered the room, or the way he looked genuinely happy to see you. Interlocking your hands behind your back in order to keep them from reaching for things that didn’t belong to you, you addressed the man. “Captain Rex, I’d like to have a word with you.” You didn’t miss the way his eyebrow raised at the use of his title, something you weren’t usually known to do. “Of course sir.” Came the automatic response, though when neither of you moved, you coughed into your fist uncomfortably, trying again. “Could I have a word...in private?” As if out of second hand embarrassment, the trooper blushed, offering a brisk nod. “Sure.” Eager to move out of a more populated area, you left the bridge, Rex close behind you.

It was in an empty conference room that you both found each other standing in, and you clasped your hands together nervously, casting a glance up at him. “Is something wrong sir?” He asked, and for some reason you found it mildly amusing that he was the one asking you what was wrong, as if you hadn’t spent the last couple of days pestering him. “No! No nothing’s wrong I just…” You struggled to find the right words, hopping up onto the table to sit with an exasperated exhale. “I wanted to apologize. I’ve been acting like an absolute monster towards you recently and you don’t deserve that.” Once you started talking, you realized that the words just kept coming, almost as if it were involuntary. “You’re an extremely hard working and respectable person and I really admire you for that, and I just didn’t know what to do to show you that I like you because I’ve never really felt this way about anyone before, and I didn’t want to just come out and say it because I knew in all likelihood you didn’t feel the same way-” Only now did you notice just how much you had said, a hand clamping over your mouth in horror. You had only come to apologize, not spill the beans that you had feelings for him!

Rex looked equally caught off guard, hands gripping tightly to his helmet, and for one awful moment you thought he was weirded out by your accidental confession. “I thought Jedi disavowed attachments?” He spoke slowly, brow furrowed as he attempted to make sense of all of this. “We’re supposed to.” You admitted, staring down at the floor with a sinking feeling of dread settling in the pit of your stomach. “I guess I just realized that any day in this war could be our last, and I didn’t want to have died without telling you how I felt.” Your statement was raw and truthful, a truth that when you met his gaze once more, you knew he understood as well. 

You were both soldiers, but you were also people.

Rex placed his helmet on the table next to you, reaching out to grasp one of your hands gently in his own. For a few seconds neither of you spoke, simply reveling in the closeness of your bodies. “I wish you had told me sooner. But, I also know why you didn’t.” He murmured, running his thumb over your knuckles. “I know, and instead I just had to go and be a brat…” You lamented, eliciting a chuckle from Rex, a sound you could easily get addicted to. “You were a brat.” He hooked a few fingers underneath your chin, tilting your head up. “But,” He added, clearly growing more comfortable with your proximity, “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t cute.” Your face burned with embarrassment, wanting nothing more than to look away, but he wouldn’t allow it, fingers now grasping your jaw just tight enough to keep you where you were. “So...do you forgive me?” You managed to ask. “Of course. There’s nothing you could do that would make me feel differently.” A smile split your face, and he smirked, leaning down next to your ear. “But I’m still gonna need all the things you stole from me back.”

Ah, right.

\---

Like clockwork, the next time you, Anakin and Rex were on the bridge, you had purloined his lightsaber, engaging in the familiar dance of running away from the other Jedi. Just before he reached you, you flung the weapon in the Captain’s direction, only this time he caught it with ease, deftly flipping it end over end in his hand as if contemplating what exactly to do with it. While you couldn’t see his features, you knew he was smiling. Rex tilted his head…

...And tossed it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God the ending of this sucks I'm so sorry lmao. This is the epitome of word vomit just being tossed onto a page pls forgive me Daddy Rex deserves so much better XD


	6. Clumsy (Boba Fett/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so short but this was like an intrusive thought that I HAD to get out of my head before I could focus on anything else.
> 
> Of course it's Boba Fett that gets me to change my rating...>.>
> 
> Also this is my first time writing something that is a bit more thirsty, so let me know how I did because I hope it's not cringe or shit haha

The steady rumble of the Slave’s engines never failed in easing you into a state of peace, your eyes drooping as you waited for your bounty hunter to return. Hand resting easily on the control stick, you watched the sky outside the cockpit, admiring the indigo hues of this planet’s twilight hours. You would’ve asked Boba if you could stay for a bit, had he not told you the bounty he was pursuing was time sensitive, hence why you kept the engines running. 

Most might be adverse to the lifestyle you led, continuously on the move, going from one planet to another in search of profit. It was exhausting and dangerous, and yet you both thrived in such an environment. Boba might’ve been getting on in years, but he never once expressed a desire to quit doing what he loved, and you were all too happy to follow him. When you were aboard the Slave, it felt like it was the two of you against the galaxy. 

Distinct footsteps plodded up the ramp of the ship, a sound you recognized immediately, and you prepped the Slave for takeoff, pausing only when you heard an odd noise. A metallic thud rang out from below the cockpit accompanied by a few choice curses in Mando’a, followed with the tittering laughter from who you assumed to be the bounty. Your brow furrowed, immediately conjuring the worst scenario; had he been injured? Had the bounty got the upper hand on him? Engaging the autopilot, you clambered out of your seat, nearly falling down the ladder leading to the lower levels of the ship. You straightened just in time to see Boba Fett hurriedly shoving the bounty into the carbon freezer, his free hand cradling the front of his helmet. 

“Are you okay?”

In a flash, his hand lowered, visor fixating on your form with intensity that never failed to make you squirm. “M’fine.” His voice, gravelly and distorted through the filters of his helmet caused your heart to give a pathetic little flutter, though his clipped tone was unconvincing.

You folded your arms, the both of you readjusting slightly as the cargo bay rotated, compensating for the Slave’s axis shift upon entering orbit. “Never heard a bounty start laughing before; did they get you over the head?” 

It was clear you weren’t going to let up, and Boba exhaled softly, closing the distance between the two of you with a couple of steps. A gloved hand settled on your lower back, pulling you closer as he nudged a knuckle lightly beneath your chin. “Stop your fretting little one. I’m alright.”

Your lips curled into a smile at the endearing nickname. Reaching up, you rested your hands on either side of his helmet, pausing as you waited for him to give his consent. A brief nod was all the convincing you needed, easing the beskar from his head. Your fingers grazed gently over scars you repeatedly assured him were beautiful, his dark eyes meeting your own. “It’s my job to fret.” 

“Unfortunately.” Boba muttered with a hint of amusement, leaning in to steal a kiss. 

Just that moment of contact had your head spinning, hands grasping at his broad shoulders as you forgot all about your concern. Vaguely you heard him chuckle as you tugged at him insistently; the both of you knew you couldn’t actually move him even if you tried, but he humored you anyways. Advancing until he had you pinned against the ladder, Boba loomed above you, his expression almost as unreadable as it was when he donned the helmet. And Kriff you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love that. The unpredictability only made each moment more exhilarating.

His name left your lips in the faintest of whispers, and you felt the ship jolt as it entered hyperspace. Knees buckling from the sudden movement, you would have fallen down had it not been for the bounty hunter’s strong arms supporting your weight with ease. 

“Hush now Princess, I’ve got you.” Boba rumbled, a rush of heat flaring between the two of you as he slanted his mouth against yours, pressing a coarse leather glove to your neck. The fabric scratching against your skin sent a chill down your spine, kisses growing progressively more desperate and needy as his teeth nipped at your lower lip. Neither of you so much as flinched as his helmet hit the floor, long since forgotten as he wedged a thigh between your legs. Your fingers were uncoordinated and clumsy as you fumbled with his belt, letting out a whine of annoyance. 

He withdrew long enough to allow himself a low laugh, snatching your hands away from the buckle you were currently struggling with. “Allow me.”

Watching each move he made, you shifted impatiently against his thigh; you swore he was going as slow as possible on purpose. On the upside, it gave you time to regain your breath and compose yourself, if only a little. And that’s when you noticed it. A small red spot on his forehead, almost as if he had been struck. But if the bounty hadn’t gotten a good swing in, how had that happened? Suddenly everything fell into place.

“Did you hit your head against the door?” The question was so blunt and inconsistent with the current mood that Boba froze like carbonite. His reaction made you bite down on your lip, trying your best not to smile.

His gaze flickered up to meet yours, and for a moment he looked more flustered than you’d seen in a while. “No.”

The defensive answer, coupled with how embarrassed he looked made your jaw drop open, and the snicker escaped you before you could even think of stopping it. “Oh my stars you did…”

Boba let out a groan, part annoyance and perhaps part mortification. Mood sufficiently ruined, he leaned down to snatch up his helmet, ascending the ladder with a string of Mando’a curses following him up into the cockpit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, part three of Letters to a Stranger will be coming after this, I just needed to post this before I could continue that lmao  
> Thank you so much for all the support, I love you all <3


	7. Letters to a Stranger (Grievous/Reader) Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Had an idea for a Jedi and Grievous to be anonymous pen pals without knowing who each other are. Also I wrote like half of this while drunk so it's probably not very good haha >.<

‘Dear Q,

The more this war drags on, the more tired I become. Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been had we lived in a galaxy governed by peace; would I have been a farmer? A shop owner? Would I have found a love for the arts and shared that with those I encountered? Maybe it's foolish to focus on what could have been instead of what is. Then again, the thought of eventually having a future beyond this conflict is sometimes the only thing getting me through a particular day. Well, that and writing to you. But enough of me waxing philosophically. How are you? I hope these last few days have been treating you kindly, and (as always) I eagerly await your reply.

With affection, V.’

As always, your finger hovered over the send button, hesitating for a brief second before pressing it. No matter how many times your anonymous recipient reassured you that they enjoyed your messages, you couldn’t help but feel paranoid that you were simply pestering them. Setting aside your datapad, you stared up at the low ceiling above you, doing your best to mentally prepare yourself for the day. You weren’t lying when you said that you were tired of the war, and while you felt guilty for admitting it, you were even more tired of being a Jedi.

Sure, it was a great honor to be chosen to be trained by the Jedi Order, to be taken from your backwater planet and raised with all the luxury Coruscant had to offer. And yet as more time passed, you couldn’t help but become more and more critical of the systems you were expected to defend and uphold. How was it that Jedi were continuously called peacekeepers, and yet you fought and killed just like any other soldier? True peacekeepers would not have to shed blood in order to maintain that peace. You let out a sigh, pushing yourself up off the bed. With the least amount of enthusiasm, you clipped your lightsaber to your belt, and exited the room in order to face the day ahead.

Aboard the Negotiator, things were quiet, and yet they were anything but soothing. You likened it to the calm before the storm as the ship hovered above the remote planet of Erybis. It was Jedi Master Kenobi that approached you first upon entering the bridge, his brow furrowed, a look you knew all too well at this point. “Is something wrong General Kenobi?” You offered a brief nod in greeting, before joining him at the command center. “Indeed there is. Our orders are clear; extract Senator Orn from the surface of the planet and bring him safely back to Coruscant, but we lost contact before we could confirm his location.” 

You leaned against the console, looking at the hologram of the planet. At this point in the war, the story was one you’ve heard countless times. The people of Erybis had suffered extreme losses, and those they traded with had withdrawn their support due to the conflict in this sector. Cut off from supplies and stranded in the Outer Rim, they had become just another planet the Republic had abandoned. And now the Senator was forced to beg for support in front of a Senate composed of people who may or may not actually care about the lives being lost due to their negligence. 

“Your thoughts are dark.” Obi-Wan’s voice nearly made you jump, and you silently cursed him for his attunement to others’ emotions. “I’m just worried for the people down there.” You amended, not exactly lying, but not telling the full truth either. “So, how did we lose comms. Was it Separatists?” He regarded you coolly for a moment, seeming almost as though he wanted to broach the subject further, but the mission was of the utmost importance. “Fortunately, no. A storm overtook the planet moments after we arrived, and our signal can’t get through. I need you to locate the Senator.”

You exhaled through your nose, having seen this request coming from a mile away. After all, this had been why you were raised as a Jedi to begin with. While many had to learn how to connect to the Force on a broader scale, you had to learn how to control and contain your abilities. From a young age it was overwhelming; constantly being aware of others emotions and thoughts, constantly knowing where people were, even dreaming of events happening across the galaxy. For a long time, it seemed like your head was so full of information about other people that there was no room for your own personality and feelings. You supposed that was the one thing you were truly grateful to the Jedi Order for; the ability to mitigate the impact your connection to the Force had on your everyday life.

Pushing off the console, you sat down against the wall, crossing your legs. “You know the drill. Absolute silence.” A few words from General Kenobi and the clones manning their stations sat still, everyone doing their best to make as little noise as possible. Silence was only part of the key, the other being an anchor. Searching the Force like this was a lot to take in, and it was easy to get swept up in the noise of all those minds, which is why you developed a way to bind yourself to the present. You focused on your anchor, the corner of your mouth twitching upward ever so slightly as you envisioned your writing partner. Slowly, you allowed your carefully built walls to fall, opening your mind to the abyss.

The Force was like an ocean. It was clear and calm, but it also had the potential to be wild and untamed, thrashing about in beastly defiance. You were naught but a vessel caught on those waves, and it took you many years to learn how to navigate the void. It was Obi-Wan’s mind you found first, a gleaming star you used to visualize your position. You could feel his positivity, his hope, but also his doubts and his fears. You did your best not to linger on him lest you be pulled off course, and expanded your senses further outwards. 

Through all things, the Force flowed, and when your tendril of thought came into contact with the planet, your breath caught in your throat. You could feel the tempest raging on, that sense of power and raw destruction filling your veins as though it were your own. It was intoxicating, and had you been any less experienced, the sensation would have overtaken you. Pushing past the storm, you winced, mind flooded with the thoughts and emotions of those native to Erybis. You hated this part, hated seeing the suffering of those who needed help the most, but were denied for one reason or another. People were starving, dying of dehydration and sickness, angry and disheartened by the Republic’s lack of care, and for a moment during your search, you couldn’t tell where their rage stopped and yours began.

It was impossible to tell how much time passed before you found the Senator, safely holed up in a city in the northern hemisphere of the planet. The process of putting those walls back up around your mind was slow but steady, hindered only when you felt something...familiar. It was a warm sensation, one shrouded in the most comforting shade of black, like a bedroom in the middle of the night when you’re huddled beneath a pile of blankets. Just like that, those walls fell once more, and your mind was drawn to the sensation.

When you opened your eyes, you knew something wasn’t right. Your surroundings were unchanged, and yet you were alone on the bridge of the Negotiator. No clones sat at their consoles, and even your fellow Jedi was absent. It was deafeningly quiet, each breath you took seeming much too loud, the sound of your heartbeat pounding like a drum in your head. Suddenly, you weren’t alone. Feeling eyes boring into your back, you whipped around coming face to face with one whose name you’d heard countless times. 

General Grievous.

Part of you knew you should have already drawn your lightsaber, but the other part of you couldn’t. Even though you had never encountered the cyborg on the battlefield before, there was something so intimate about this feeling. “How did you get here?” Both of your voices rang out in perfect synchronization, and despite the situation you couldn’t help but allow yourself a small laugh. His golden eyes burned with an emotion caught somewhere between intrigue and wariness, though you noticed that he too hadn’t drawn his weapons. “How did you get aboard my ship?” He asked again, and it was that simple question that made you realize just what was going on. 

You were still adrift in the void.

It was this revelation that made you look down at your hands in amazement. “How is this possible…” You murmured, your voice echoing around the two of you. Grievous took a step forward, metal talons clanking loudly against the floor of the bridge, his head tilting as he looked at his surroundings. You couldn’t see what he saw, but he must’ve had a revelation of his own, and you watched his receptor panels angle forward in shock. “This isn’t real.” He spoke slowly, turning that spotlight gaze back to you. “I’m not quite sure to be honest.” You admitted, taking a cautious step towards him, outstretching one of your hands. Sure, this could potentially be a very bad idea, you both seemed to know that, but curiosity was stronger, and you watched Grievous extend his servo. You held your breath as warm skin met cold metal, looking on as he cradled your hand in his claw as if it were prone to break at the slightest of pressure. Finally, he spoke the words that raged within your mind. 

“Why do I know you?”

As quickly as he appeared, Grievous vanished, and your eyes snapped open for the second time. Only now, the bridge bustled with movement, clones rushing too and fro. Obi-Wan was knelt before you, a hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “Are you alright?” It took another few moments to regain your bearings before you could respond. “I...Yeah. Yeah I’m okay.” You struggled to your feet, Obi-Wan helping to keep you steady. “I hope you managed to locate the Senator, because this is no longer just a race against time.”

‘Grievous is here.’ You didn’t voice your thoughts aloud; the sound of blaster fire beating against the Negotiator’s shields was answer enough. That explained why you felt his presence so strongly, although it still didn’t explain what about his aura was so comforting and warm. Even now, you could feel it beckoning you, whispering sweet promises if only you’d draw closer. Reaching the hologram of the planet, you isolated the sector you’d felt the Senator’s energy in, gesturing to a particular city. “Orn is here, and for now, he’s safe.” 

You wondered if you sounded as exhausted as you felt, and General Kenobi spared you a worried glance, before gathering a squad to head planetside for extraction. “Stay here and keep the enemy occupied. I won’t be long.” With that, the older Jedi left the bridge, and you stared out the window, eyes boring into the Separatist command ship. Even across the vastness of space, you couldn’t help but feel like those golden orbs were fixed on your position, and even more concerning, you couldn’t quite find a reason why that was a bad thing.

\---

Minor speedbumps aside, the extraction was a success, though everyone only relaxed once they entered hyperspace. The day was hard, and the questions you kept asking yourself were even harder, but your steps lightened significantly as you made your way back to your quarters. It was your favorite moment of each day, heading back to see just what response your anonymous writing partner had left you. It was the one thing you consistently looked forward to. The datapad sat on your bed where you’d left it, the screen lit up with a symbol that brought a smile to your weary features. All but bounding over, you sat back against your pillow, unlocking the device. 

‘My dearest V,

Dreaming of a better future is the furthest thing from foolish. In fact, I envy your ability to do so. I’ve never had the courage to admit this to anyone before, but there are nights I am kept awake, consumed by the thought of running away. Perhaps you’d see this as an act of cowardice, but I too am tired of this war. There was once a time I relished the thrill of the fight. I wanted only to improve myself and become the ultimate hunter. I did this for so long that I forgot what it is to live for myself and the things I find joy in doing, and not just what was expected of me. If I were to run away, I don’t know what I would do afterwards. What would I live for?

These last few days have been especially hard. My superiors are none too happy with my performance, and my spirits are low. Your letters are the only solace in this cold universe we live in, and I often find myself thinking of you throughout the day. Even in the heat of battle, my thoughts wander, just as they are right now as I write this. You’re the only one in my life who understands and has compassion for me. And maybe that’s simply because you don’t know just who I am or the things I’ve done, but despite that I can’t help but daydream that someday, you and I might run away from this war together.

Forever yours, Q.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be a multi-part story. Possibly two chapters but we'll see what you guys think because based on reception I might do more. Idk yet. Sorry for my absence, I've been alone for the last two weeks so I'm kinda struggling lmao, but I am still alive and will continue to update this series :)   
> Love all of you and thank you so much for the support <3


	8. Letters to a Stranger (Grievous/Reader) Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you soooo much to emmdies for helping me with formatting to make the story more cohesive. i have no idea if i did a good job since this is my first time doing that so lemme know >.<  
> <3

‘Q,

You call yourself a coward, but I disagree. It takes a truly brave soul to even contemplate running away, and I admire you for that. I may not know exactly who you are, or all the things you’ve done, but the same could be said for my own anonymity. And yet despite all of that, I refuse to judge you based on things you may or may not have done. This is a war, and atrocities are committed on both sides. We as individuals aren’t solely to blame, but rather the institutions in place that encourage, or rather, demand such conduct. 

The idea of going with you, somewhere far from all of this, grows more appealing with each passing day. Things have been happening to me lately, and I don’t quite know how to explain them. I don’t know if I would call it frightening, but it’s certainly new. My main concern at the moment is making sure my superiors don’t suspect anything, which is unfortunately easier said than done. I already have a slight issue with authority as is. But don’t worry; I’ll be fine. Maybe a few months ago I wouldn’t have been, but I’m not alone anymore like I used to be, because now I have you. And knowing you’re out there somewhere is the most comforting thought of all.

Till the day we finally meet, V.’

\---

“The Jedi Council would like to speak to us before we leave Coruscant.” Obi-Wan’s words were unusually guarded as the two of you walked the quiet halls.

“You mean they want to speak to me.” It wasn’t so much a question as it was a statement, one that despite your best efforts, sparked a seed of anxiety deep within you. 

“Well, yes. But you are my ward, so I’ll be there with you.”

Perhaps on a different day such reassurance would have been comforting, but all you could think of now was the fact that he would be one more Jedi scrutinizing your every move. The two of you fell into uncomfortable silence, and more than anything you wish you were back on the Negotiator, huddled beneath your blankets and clutching your datapad to your chest. You repeated the last sentences of Q’s letter over and over in the safety of your own mind, finding a small sense of solace in the lines you’d long since memorized.

When the doors to the High Council Chamber slid open, it felt like you were wading through sludge, each footstep bringing you to the center of the room slower than the one before. Taking a deep breath, you mimicked Obi-Wan, bending at the waist out of respect for the powerful Jedi that made up the Council.

“General Kenobi, glad to see your mission on Erybis was a success.” Master Plo Koon was the first to speak, and his casual tone did little to ease the tension of the room.

Yoda shifted in his seat, nodding in agreement. “Yes, yes. Very glad we are. Lose another system to General Grievous, we did not.”

“Our swift extraction had little to do with me, I’m afraid. It was all thanks to my apprentice. Without them, we would never have been able to locate Senator Orn in time.” Obi-Wan was quick to correct his fellow Jedi Masters, and while the last thing you wanted was for the spotlight to fall on you, it was worth noting and appreciating your guardian’s aversion to the term ‘Padawan’, opting to instead identify you as an apprentice. Technically, you were still a Padawan, however the term was much too infantile for your liking. It didn’t help that you would have become a fully fledged Jedi Knight a couple years ago, had the Council not have asked for you to remain under Obi-Wan’s wing. 

“Your Padawan is precisely why we’ve called this meeting.” Mace Windu was perhaps one of the most intimidating Jedi on the Council, and his words weighed down upon you like a stifling pressure. A few murmurs of agreement from his colleagues arose, and he continued. “We worry that their exposure to the Force is too unstable, and too unfiltered. They do not have enough control or knowledge to use their ability safely.”

It was so incredibly difficult to just stand there and listen to these people talk about you as if you weren’t there, as if you couldn’t speak for yourself. This wasn’t the first time you’d been called before them for this reason, and you doubted it would be the last time either. It was always the same; you’re too unstable, you aren’t in control of your emotions, you question the Code… 

“On Erybis, conflicted your thoughts were.” Master Yoda’s voice snapped your gaze up to meet his own, and despite your apprehension you couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of happiness that someone was finally talking to you instead of about you. “Anger, resentment, fear. Thoughts of the Dark Side, these are.” 

“You’re right, Master Yoda.” You began, knowing that presenting a convincing argument was the key to all of this. “Navigating the Force is complicated for me. Especially on such short notice. When I reached out on Erybis, my thoughts were dark, but they also weren’t just my own thoughts anymore. My mind could feel the suffering of the people down on the planet, and their emotions became my own-”

“And yet those emotions have a lasting impact on you.” Windu interrupted, his dark eyes harsh and unforgiving, and you found yourself staring down at your feet. 

“I’m really trying. Sometimes, all those voices...it just overwhelms me.” You swallowed thickly, feeling Obi-Wan place a hand on your shoulder. “Maybe if you would allow me to practice more, I could improve and-”

“No!”

The answer was so abrupt, so loud that it startled you, your head jerking upward. Windu leaned forward, and for a brief moment you saw fear in his eyes, before it was gone almost as quick as it had appeared. He glanced over at Master Yoda, relaxing in his seat as if nothing had happened. 

“The Council has decided you will no longer search the Force. Until you can demonstrate control of your emotions, we feel this is the best course of action.”

Yoda stared at you steadily, making it clear without even saying a word that there would be no arguments. “Dismissed you are, young one. Speak with Master Kenobi alone, we will.”

\---

There was a strange emptiness within you upon boarding the Negotiator. You supposed you might describe it as numbness, and you practically ignored everyone around you as you made your way to your quarters. You thought you would feel better in the quiet isolation, but all it did was make your thoughts even louder. The Council’s words didn’t make sense no matter how hard you puzzled over it; instead of practicing and getting better at navigating the Force, they wanted you to stop doing it entirely? Why? 

‘Maybe it’s because they’re afraid you’ll turn to the Dark Side.’ 

It was such a small, brief thought buried in your subconscious mind that you almost didn’t recognize it as your own. Allowing a dry laugh, you sat heavily on the edge of your bed. At least there was one upside; the Council didn’t seem to know about your strange incident with General Grievous. Your gaze slid over to the datapad sitting on your bedside table, reaching for it in hopes that you had a letter from Q waiting to be read. Kriff knows you needed one after the day you’d just had.  


You sat there for maybe fifteen minutes, refreshing your inbox in the hopes that a message would simply appear, suppressing a sigh of disappointment. Leaning back against your pillow, you did your best to meditate, something that Obi-Wan always got on you for not doing enough. Maybe he was right; you weren’t doing enough to train and control your emotions. Despite your best efforts, your mind began to wander as it was prone to do when you sat for too long doing nothing. 

And that’s when you felt it.

It wasn’t much at first. Just a little tug on the edge of your mind. Then came the buzzing, as if it were subtly reminding you it was still there, growing in intensity until it was persistently begging you for attention. When you finally reached out in return, the result was immediate. 

You sat upright in bed, quick as a bullet, looking around as if to try and see what changed. Just as before, your surroundings were normal, save for the hulking figure seated at your desk, his back turned to you. Even though you couldn’t see his face, there was no mistaking who it was, those broad mechanical shoulders draped in an inky cloak. You let out a groan, flopping back against the pillow. “The Jedi Council is gonna kill me…”

Grievous cursed in a language you’d never heard before, fumbling with what seemed like a datapad before he shoved it into the recesses of his cape. When he turned to you, his eyes were narrowed to slits. “You have rather poor timing, Jedi.”

“Don’t I know it.” You scoffed, though you noted that once again there wasn’t much hostility displayed between the two of you beyond the initial annoyance of intrusion. “So what do you see when this happens?” You weren’t quite sure why you asked him, or why you were being so casual in the presence of an enemy, but maybe it had something to do with your meeting earlier today. Maybe this was your way of subtly getting back at the Council.

“Why do you want to know?” His tone was guarded, understandably so, and you leaned on one elbow, shrugging.

“Because I see my room, and I wanted to know if it was the same for you. Last time you asked how I got onto your ship when I was onboard mine, so I figured we could only see each other, and not the other person’s surroundings.”

Grievous tilted his head, conflict clear in his golden eyes. “I see my quarters.” He finally responded, confirming your theory. “So why would the Jedi Council punish you for such an extraordinary ability?”

You blinked in surprise, not expecting Grievous to actually carry on the conversation, much less ask a question so...personal. “Well,” you began slowly, trying to gather your thoughts, “I’m technically not supposed to be doing stuff like this anymore. They say it’s dangerous, but I think they’re just afraid of me.”

The way Grievous cackled at that was almost addictive, and you couldn’t help but crack a smile, shifting to cross your legs as his laughter died to an almost painful sounding coughing fit. 

“Afraid you’ll be seduced to the Dark Side no doubt.” He spoke once he had recovered, the skin around his eyes crinkled with amusement.

You nodded, picking at the hem of your sheets absentmindedly. “Probably.” As you fell into silence, you couldn’t help but let your gaze wander over the figure across from you, eyes tracing each sharp edge and abnormal angle of his unusual body. “Why are you talking to me?” You watched his receptor panels rotate forward, and you quickly elaborated. “I mean, all the things I’ve heard about you paint you to be a violent and tyrannical General who only cares about killing Jedi. And yeah, before you said you felt as if you knew me, but that still doesn’t explain why you’re tolerating me enough to have an actual conversation.”

The General was silent for so long that you thought perhaps you’d offended him, the cyborg shifting slightly in his seat. “I am all of those things, little Jedi. But I am also tired. Tired of this war, and tired of making enemies. I thought maybe, however unlikely, it might be nice to have a friend.”

Those words rang in your ear even as the world around you was melting away, and though you longed to respond, it was too late. You jolted upright once more, alone again in your room. The chair at your desk was painfully empty, but the memory of what just happened remained. Why had his words sounded so familiar, and so heartbreaking? ‘Tired of this war, and tired of making enemies.’ It was a sentiment you understood and could sympathize with.

The buzzing of your datapad drew your attention away temporarily, and you all but lunged to grab it, hands fumbling to open the message you’d just received.

‘My dearest V,

Your words bring me a comfort I have not known for many years. I can never thank you enough for that, and I can only hope that I provide that same level of comfort to you. I’m sorry to hear of your troubles, and I hope things get resolved quickly. After all, it’s much harder to run away when your superiors are suspicious. 

Forgive me for not getting this to you sooner; something rather unexpected happened today and I’m only just getting around to finishing my letter. However unexpected it was, the conversation I just had made me realize something about myself. I used to think there was no better feeling than knowing that people feared me, or knowing my enemies shook at the mere mention of my name. But now I know it feels even better to make a friend.

May the day we meet come soon, Q.’ 

You don’t know how long you’d stared at the screen, hands clutching the datapad in a white-knuckled grip. You’d almost forgotten to breathe as you fixated on that last sentence. Fingers shaking, you typed your response.

‘Grievous?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhh have I mentioned that I hate the Jedi Order?? lmao  
> This seriously was only supposed to be a oneshot and then I started writing the first part and was like...welp okay i guess


	9. Letters to a Stranger (Grievous/Reader) Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm super sorry this is so short but there were a lot of emotions going on for me...Wow I was not expecting for this to get this dark or sad. ummmm im depressed :')  
> also i have no idea if this is well written, i wrote most of it while crying so im sorry if the mood setting or all of that isn't very good.  
> let me know if you want more of this Letters to a Stranger series, or any other suggestions you may have

Metal and ash rained down from the sky, columns of black smoke billowing across the horizon. In orbit, the Negotiator hovered like an angel of death, stoically watching over the destruction it had wrought. Through blurry eyes you watched as the remnants of the Separatist ship streaked through the atmosphere, the hull tearing itself apart upon reentry. It collided with the ground, and a pain that wasn’t your own seared through your body, your vision going black.

‘Grievous…’

That had been the last letter you’d sent to him. One word. You regretted it now. There were so many things you wished you could tell him. You’d tell him how you didn’t care who he was, that to you, he would always be Q, the person who helped you go through each day. You’d tell him how each smile his letters had brought to your face was the most genuine you’d experienced in your whole life. How you would have been lost long ago had it not been for him. And now, it felt as though you’d never get the chance to speak those words.

“Look for signs of movement. If you find the Jedi and they’re still alive, you know what to do.”

Your body spasmed, voices in the distance bringing you back to the waking world. The wreckage of your fighter lay in pieces around you, a thick layer of ash coating your skin. Trembling hands ran across your body checking for wounds, and a panic welled deep within you as your fingers grazed your belt. ‘My lightsaber.’ Gritting your teeth, you rolled over, hands grasping at the earth around you as you searched desperately for the weapon, hearing those footsteps drawing ever closer.

“There!” A shot rang out, imbedding into the ground inches away from your head.

Lightsaber forgotten, you scrambled to your feet, eyes wide as you bolted for the trees. You ran as fast as your legs could carry you, casting frenzied glances backwards. Blaster fire rained down upon you, and in the fading light of dusk you could see flashes of white helmets. 

White helmets of those who had once been your friends. 

A surprised shriek tore from your lungs as your right leg crumpled, sending you tumbling down a slope. Crashing through the underbrush, you let out a pained wheeze as you finally rolled to a stop. But you didn’t dare move. You stayed low, breaths leaving you in ragged pants as you listened for any sign of the troopers. The forest around you was unnervingly quiet with the absence of gunfire, like an animal poised to strike.

“They won’t get very far injured. We’ll gather our equipment, then split up and search the area grid by grid.” Tensing, you listened to the troopers pull back from the ridge, their footsteps fading into the distance.

You waited another few minutes just to be safe before you struggled to your feet, favoring one leg. Tearing off some fabric from your shirt, you took deep breaths, wrapping it snuggly around the blaster wound burned into your thigh. A few tentative steps later, and you were hobbling your way further into the forest. You didn’t know if you were going the right way. Kriff, you didn’t even know what the right way was anymore. All you knew was whatever lay ahead had to be better than what was behind. You kept your eyes on the horizon, willing yourself forward as each step became more and more difficult. Without even noticing, you began writing a letter in your head.

‘Grievous,

The Jedi have been betrayed.’

You pulled yourself over a log, muffling a cry of pain as the bark raked over your injury.

‘I don’t know what’s happening but I’m alone. And I’m scared.’

Stiff hands pulled your tattered clothes tighter across your body as the night’s chill began to set in. But you couldn’t stop, not even for a moment.

‘I thought we would have had so much more time to plan our elaborate getaways. I pictured it as sort of romantic actually. But the reality is ugly. And so much more painful when you’re not here to help me.’

You didn’t even notice you were crying until you nearly tripped because of your blurred vision. Rubbing at your eyes, you limped onward as if being pulled along on a string. Breaking through the tree line, it took a moment to comprehend what you were seeing, a field of debris spread out before you. Then, you realized just what it was that was urging you forward.

“Grievous.” 

It didn’t matter how agonizing it was to run; you sprinted through the wreckage of the Separatist ship, following your gut in half crazed desperation. Nothing else mattered except getting to him. Tearing the door to the escape pods off its hinges, you vaulted inside, landing hard on your knees. 

“No…” You choked out, crawling closer. 

His body laid against one of the pods, one arm wedged beneath a beam, the armored limb warped and mangled. His head drooped against his chest plates, those normally vibrant eyes hidden from sight. Just yesterday, this had been the person who sat at your desk, tired, but still full of life. He had been talking and laughing, and now… 

“No no no, you don’t get to do this to me.” Your voice was unsteady, throat feeling as though it were closing up. Dragging yourself closer, you grasped his shoulders, shaking the cyborg roughly. “You don’t get to leave me like this Grievous. C’mon!” You cursed, bruising your knuckles as you brought them down on his armor. Over and over, you tugged and prodded, screaming your frustration to an empty room. Finally, hands battered and bloody, you collapsed against him, hot tears streaming down your face as you rested your sweaty forehead against his neck.

“We were supposed to run away together…” The words were a hoarse whisper, devoured by the deafening silence pressing down upon you. Your arms wound around him and you held on tight. Then, you started talking. Once you started you couldn’t stop. You told him everything you’d wanted him to know, everything you felt for him, baring your soul to a lifeless husk.

“I love you Grievous.”

It was so light at first you thought you were imagining it. The slightest caresses of sharp edges against skin. And then a talon tipped servo pressed against your back, pulling you closer to him.

“I love you too, little Jedi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure, i have no idea how to write sad stories so i don't even know if this will inspire an emotion within those who read it but oh well. this is kinda a vent for me.  
> and because im corny af, if you want to know what i was listening to while writing this, i'll give you the song  
> Wander by DYATHON


End file.
